


we're hazy eyed, but not because we're fucked up

by fadedcokecans



Series: 'Cause I'm not too far and you're my favourite place [2]
Category: Women's Soccer RPF
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-31
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:14:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27298468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fadedcokecans/pseuds/fadedcokecans
Summary: Coffee shop au featuring some other Scandis. I suck at summaries.Title from 'Coffee Talk' by Broadside
Relationships: Marie Dolvik/Ingrid Engen
Series: 'Cause I'm not too far and you're my favourite place [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1921807
Comments: 2
Kudos: 9





	we're hazy eyed, but not because we're fucked up

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, hey, unbeta'd everything in this series is my mistake and I'm not sorry about it.

Ingrid has apologized almost twenty times for the offensively ugly wallpaper in the bathroom. She can’t do much about it, Starbucks is always beating her little cafe out for business. So, she transformed the counter into a bar during the nights, the ‘No alcohol before five’ sign drawing a lively crowd every night. To gain even more traffic, she opened an open mic night on Thursday evenings, and she’s almost always agreed to host events. And then she put up a bulletin board for flyers. She began to generate revenue from the bar and the open mic nights. Her impressive mug collection did not draw customers. It drew interest and returning customers, but not new customers. 

Her mug collection, it’s a thing of beauty, in her opinion. Mugs of all sizes and with all different decorations grace her shelves. There’s a few regulars who request specific mugs. There’s some who don’t care, as long as they get their coffee or scone. There’s a few who have a game with Ingrid, who have a mug-guessing-game going. It’s not the most fun ever, but it entertains the few that play the game. Most of the randos that walk into her cafe just receive a random mug. Ingrid doesn’t put too much thought into which mug each person gets. She only gives thought to the young, blonde, tattoo covered woman who always orders a coffee with way too much sugar and cream to be healthy and a plain bagel. Her style is so unpredictable and her mannerisms so off from how she looks, Ingrid is perplexed by the woman.  
The woman has posted a flyer on the board. Ingrid checked it, the only one she actually has checked, and it’s for a tiny little tattoo parlour; she Googled it. Ingrid is intrigued by the woman, but not to the length of booking an appointment. She has no doubt that the woman is a skilled artist, if the little doodles adorning her arms are any indication. 

Of everything in that tiny cafe in the middle of Trondheim, the woman decides to comment on Ingrid’s choice in music: Norway’s vintage pop charts. Nothing is current, it’s all early 2000’s music. Three months of visiting every morning, and she decides to talk to Ingrid for the first time outside of ordering is about her taste in music. And Ingrid decides that the woman might be slightly out of her mind. She plays the music just a bit louder the next day. 

Ingrid should know the woman’s name by now. She’s taken her order every day, including weekends, for three months. (Her name is Marie.) Not every day, really; she does have employees. 

Ingrid is a bit petty, it is her nature, having grown up with a younger brother, and she plays only popular lo fi music the next day. And then she gives the woman a tiny little mug she got from Amsterdam. She says her name but Ingrid is too busy being as bitchy as possible for it to register. One of her baristas makes her coffee, putting the usual ungodly amount of sugar in. Ingrid waits to see how she reacts. 

“Marie!”

The woman, Marie, walks over to the counter, and picks up the mug, before looking right at Ingrid, a confused look on her face. Summoned, Ingrid walks over with a cheeky little smile gracing her face. 

“Hey. Got a problem with something?”

“Yeah, why’s there a naked lady holding weed on this mug?”

Ingrid smiles. It’s a genuine, wide smile, showing off her bright teeth under the soft lighting of the hanging lights. 

“It’s a souvenir! I bought it when I visited Amsterdam. There’s a lot of marijuana themed things there, and a fairly large red light district,” she says, sounding almost like a walking encyclopedia. 

Marie narrows her eyes at Ingrid, visibly trying to restrain a smile. She turns, and walks back to her table in the corner. There’s another woman sitting there, along with a young man with ugly hair, looking like a stereotypical rich white boy whose entire personality is showing people he has money. Ingrid quickly glances away when the woman stands up and greets Marie with a kiss on the cheek. 

Ingrid switches her Spotify playlist right when Marie sits down. Coffee Talk by Broadside plays, and Marie’s head shoots up, searching the room for Ingrid, who busied herself in the kitchen. The sly little grin is on her face when Julie pops her head around the corner, telling her that Marie is searching for her. She pulls her expression under control, and turns to the counter, her apron on and towel tossed over her shoulder. 

“Hello again, Marie. Need something?”

“What’s up with the music?”

“Oh come off it. Coffee Talk is from 2015.”

“Who the hell says ‘come off it?’”

“If you’re here to make small talk, at least offer to help me wash the dishes,” Ingrid grumbles. 

“I do have a life, you know,” Marie snaps right back. 

“Then go back to your life. I’m not holding you back, here.”

Marie turns on her heel, and stalks back to her table. Ingrid switches the music to her acoustic pop and hip hop playlist. Exactly thirteen minutes after Marie goes back to her table, the young man orders for himself and the other woman; Ingrid watches the oven clock the whole time. She makes him the breakfast sandwiches he orders, and then brings them to the trio, along with two cups of coffee. The sweet smile on her face as she tells them to enjoy their food isn’t even forced, and she walks away humming the Noah Kahan song playing over the speakers. 

<>

Marie is back that evening for an open mic. She’s never been there for an open mic session before, and she sits in the back of the room, close to the bar. Her friends seem to want to sit closer to the makeshift stage.

She watches through the acoustic singers and poetry reads, before turning and ordering a drink. Ingrid is far from a bartender, so it’s nice when Marie just orders a beer. Ingrid is saved when Magda Eriksson breezes through the front door, dropping a litany of apologies to Ingrid before slipping into an apron and quickly taking the order of the young woman who had been sitting with Marie in the morning. Her girlfriend follows her through the door not too late after Magda, and sits at the bar. Ingrid wonders why she pays Magda to flirt with Pernille and occasionally make drinks. She wonders why she pays Therese Sessy, who she only calls Sessy, to sit around and chat up everyone instead of serving drinks. 

Ingrid hops on stage quickly after each person to thank them and introduce the next act, disrupting her quiet conversation with Marie. 

The crowd thins out as it gets later. The group Marie entered with leaves without her. She curses her friends out, especially Celin, loudly after she realizes what she’s done. Everyone’s eyes are on her after her outburst, and she sinks into the bar, with a grumbled “I’m so going to kill Celin tomorrow.”

Pernille and Marie are the last two sitting at the bar by closing time. Marie has no reason to be there, but she’s talking about her tiny little tattoo parlour with Pernille, with Magda chiming in occasionally from where she’s washing dishes. Ingrid keeps to herself as she wipes down tables. She’s just wasting time by pretending to wipe tables and eavesdropping on Marie. There’s just something about how she talks, soft and thoughtfully, thinking through everything she says. Ingrid wanders back to the bar, and sprays Marie in the face with her bottle. 

“Are you going to just sit there or?”

“Ingrid! Don’t be rude,” Pernille chastises lightly. She turns to Marie and says, “Sorry about my friend here, she’s so awkward when she’s around hot girls.”  
Marie bursts into laughter. “You think I’m hot?”

Ingrid just rolls her eyes and flips Pernille off, who laughs. Magda walks out of the kitchen. 

“You ready to go, babe?”

Magda grabs Pernille’s hand and opens the door for her. 

“I guess that’s my cue, Ingrid,” Marie says quietly.

“Open mics are on Thursdays, if you ever want to visit again. I suppose you’ll be here tomorrow morning.”

“I might be busy yelling at Celin for being an ass.”

“I will eagerly await your service,” Ingrid says, rolling her eyes. 

Ingrid closes up the shop, thinking about what Pernille was saying. She didn’t even refute the statement.

<>

Julie laughs at Ingrid the whole time she walks from the front door to the counter, and then into the back room. Ingrid doesn’t even want to know why Julie is laughing at her, though she has her suspicions. Somehow, there is a network of people connecting Pernille and Magda to Ingrid’s baristas, Julie, Olaug, Thea, Elisabeth, and Cecilie. Julie and Olaug are always there in the morning, both of them having classes in the afternoons. That means Julie and Olaug always see Ingrid’s interactions with Marie. That also means Julie and Olaug tell their friends. And everything somehow circulates back to Pernille. Sometimes Ingrid hates herself for hiring people that have connections to everyone her other employees know. 

Somehow, even Ingrid’s best friend, Karina, knows about what happened the night before, and she visits the cafe to grill Ingrid about it. She’s following Ingrid around as she serves pastries when Marie and Celin walk in. Ingrid glances up and smiles when she sees Marie, and Karina immediately starts pestering her. Celin is walking slower behind Marie, who walks up to Olaug and orders her coffee, but not Celin’s. Ingrid fixes her a free croissant, and walks over quickly.

“A complimentary ‘Sorry your friend was an ass and you got left behind last night’ croissant for Marie?”

Marie’s smile is infectious as Ingrid places the plate in front of her. 

“Right. Ingrid, this is Celin, who left me behind last night.”

It’s the same woman who Marie was with the morning before. 

“If you’re wondering, the guy was Celin’s boyfriend.”

“Right, the rich white boy,” Ingrid mutters under her breath, just loud enough for Karina, who elbows her sharply in the ribs, to hear.

“Oh fuck you too, Karina. I could so go and replace you with Frida.”

“No, please, keep me in the loop.”

“Not like you’re ever out of the loop, somehow everyone I fucking know knows P and Magda or Jules and Olaug.”

“It’s your own damn fault, Ingrid. You hired half of the university students in Trondheim.”

“I never fucking hired P. She just showed up one day!”

“You hired Magda. You always get both for the price of one.”

“I basically hired Magda to talk to P all evening. Wait, fuck off. This was about you, asshole,” Ingrid says, weaving her way between the tables to get a pot of coffee. 

She turns back from the counter to find Karina sitting at Marie’s table. She grabs a mug with a stupid “Eat Trash Hail Satan” saying around an opossum and walks back over. 

“I forgot,” she says as she places the mug in front of Karina, “this is my easily replaceable best friend Karina.”

“Stop it, Ingrid,” Karina whined pathetically. “Also, what the fuck is this mug?”

“A fitting one. Anyone need a refill?”

Ingrid breezes around and refills peoples cups, and occasionally stops to talk to Marie and Karina, who should really be at her own job. Julie clocks out and Cecilie comes in for her shift. It’s not hard for her to figure out why Ingrid is distracted when she’s lingering around one table in particular. Ingrid only leaves for her lunch break and for the interview she has with a prospecting chef. 

Marie stays at the cafe all day. Ingrid thinks she should go to her job, but she wasn’t going to tell Marie to leave when she’s giving her business. 

Sessy arrives for her shift, and laughs when she finds Ingrid still lingering by one table. The cafe is empty, aside from Marie and a couple university students, including Julie and her friend who are studying in the corner. Ingrid gives Julie and Sara, who stocks the back for Ingrid after hours when she needs the help, a free, quiet place to study that isn’t a stuffy library. Ingrid continues to refill Marie’s mug, this time decorated with a watercolor Barcelona skyline. 

Friday evenings are always busy, especially during Ingrid’s seven o’clock happy hour, and Julie gets bullied into serving bar snacks. She’ll get paid some. She puts the Rosenborg game, to the delight of many people around. They’re up by one goal against Stabæk within the first ten minutes, which isn’t too impressive when Ingrid remembers that Stabæk is a mid table club and Rosenborg is sitting comfortably in first. There’s something hilarious about how one of Marie’s friends walks into the bar and proceeds to bug Marie, most likely about why she’s been sitting at this cafe all day instead of doing her actual job. 

“Jesus fucking Christ, you think I know things, JJ?” Marie asks in the most obnoxious and snobby tone ever. 

“Okay, okay, okay, Jesus, Marie. There’s no need to be so damn aggressive,” JJ says quickly. “I wish you were less annoying.”

“I wish you were less ‘all up in my business.’”

“Anyway, I didn’t know you were crushing on the owner of Melhus Roasts. I wish you’d hand out like roasts, like the insult ones to people who wanted it, though,” JJ says to Ingrid. “I’m Jalen. I work with Marie at her place, Permanent Doodles.” 

“Well, I can roast you, but it’s an extra 20 kroner. I’m Ingrid, if you didn’t know.”

Jalen hands her a sack of coins like a video game traveller, to which Marie elbows her. 

Ingrid grins, but doesn’t roast her. “Thanks for the money,” she says before walking away. Sessy intercepts her, only to ask her where Magda is. Magda’s perfect timing led to her weaving her way through the crowd to the bar.

“Oh, look, Sessy. It’s Magda,” Ingrid says with the most pathetic little pointing motion, before walking away. 

Ingrid is in no way a bartender. The best she can do is get people a beer. 

A loud cheer goes up when a Rosenborg player scores a screamer from outside the box, and the drinks are flowing. And once again, JJ and Celin abandon Marie, who is left sitting at the bar at the end of the night. There’s a certain understanding when Pernille comes into the bar and sits with Marie while Magda, Sessy, and Ingrid clean up after the raucous crowd of football fans. Well, Marie offered her services, but Ingrid didn’t want to have to pay her. 

Marie is a bit tipsy, almost on the cusp of the level of public intoxication. Ingrid, knowing nothing about Marie aside from the fact that she owns a small tattoo parlour and is from Tromsø, along with some other fun facts like she and her older brother stopped a burglar in their childhood house and that she used to play football. Ingrid takes Marie up to her apartment above the cafe, where Marie doesn’t let go of where she’s decided to cling onto Ingrid’s arm, like Toph to Sokka when the Gaang wasn’t on land. 

<>

Marie wakes up when Ingrid accidentally slams the door as she’s making her way down to work. She’s left a paper with a note, saying that she had left some clothes in the bathroom, and she’d serve her a free breakfast downstairs. 

In one of Ingrid’s t-shirts and a pair of joggers, she walks down into the cafe, and Julie, ever the little shit, immediately draws Olaug’s attention to Marie before Ingrid can talk to her. 

“So, Marie,” Julie says as fast as she can before Olaug shoves her out of the way.

“Did you sleep with Ingrid?” Bluntly as ever, Ingrid watches from just a few meters away as Marie stumbles a bit, and glances up at the pair of students, obviously wondering what they’re talking about. 

“Children, get back to work please, there is a line,” Ingrid says, barging her way into the conversation. 

“You can do that too, Ingrid! I want to talk to Marie!”

“Reminder: I’m your boss, Julie. Get to work, please. Stop harassing the customer.”

“Well, she can’t really be a customer if she’s not buying something.”

“Go to work please, Julie. And you too, Olaug, you little shit.”

Ingrid pinches the bridge of her nose for just a second, before apologizing for her maybe inappropriate employees. She serves Marie a plate of scrambled eggs and a cup of coffee in the Barcelona mug again, putting the sugar and cream in front of her. 

“Eat. You’ve probably got a slight hangover. I also have water, but you look like you’re about to fall asleep again.”

She lets Marie choose the music for the day. She puts on some disaster rap music that hurts Ingrid’s ears. Ingrid doesn’t switch the music until Marie leaves to go to work. She’s still wearing Ingrid’s clothes. Julie makes sure to point this out. And then proceed to tell the rest of Ingrid’s employees (and Pernillie), who point this out to her for the rest of the day. Ingrid, once again, hates herself for hiring people that know basically everyone in Trondheim. 

Even Sara and a few of Julie’s other college friends stop by to talk to Magda, how they know her is a complete and utter mystery to Ingrid but she has a suspicion it has to do with Julie sending them to talk to her, about Marie. Sara tells Ingrid that she would be apologetic, but Julie paid for her drinks and to talk to the bartender. She almost considered paying Sara to leave them alone, but she knew Julie would read way too far into that. Julie spends way too much of her free time speculating about Ingrid and Marie, who is definitely her favourite customer. 

<>

Marie is standing on the over side of the door when Ingrid opens it. She has her hands in her pockets with her arms sticking out at awkward angles. She’s smiling a very tight lipped smile, looking as awkward as possible. Ingrid tries her hardest to not laugh at Marie, but she keeps looking at Marie’s smile and wanting to burst into laughter again. 

“Uh, hi, Marie.”

“Hey. Sorry. I wasn’t going to stop by, but I was passing by and thought that I’d return your clothes.”

“Well, uh. Wait. Did Magda or Sessy let you up?”

“Uh, Magda. Pernille’s girlfriend, right?”

“She’s the Swede. Or the bitch, if you prefer. Shit, she’s so going to tell Julie, holy shit. I’m so fucking dead.”

“Is this common place here? Talking about your love life?”

“When it involves you, yes. They find great enjoyment in the fact that I find you very interesting.”

“Interesting?” Marie asks, standing straight and eyebrows raising. “Is this a good or bad interesting?”

“It’s an incredibly good interesting, Marie, I’d have to tell you that. You are a very interesting person.”

Marie’s smile split into a genuine grin as she lowered her head and looked down at her shoes. 

“Oh, shit, sorry if that was over the line, sorry, Marie.”

This interaction is so awkward for both of them, and Marie leaves quickly. It’s hard for Ingrid to look her in the eyes the next morning, even when she plays an alternative rock playlist. Sundays are usually slow days for Ingrid, but all of Julie’s friends are cramming for their exams in the cafe. All of them have headphones on and it’s dead silent from the university students. Cecilie is the only person working, and all of Ingrid’s other baristas are spread around the room. Everyone does order, whether it be a coffee or a dish. Ingrid doesn’t bug them, and would have let them stay all day, if Julie didn’t ask her what Marie was doing over last night. Ingrid only kicks her out. The rest of them learn not to bug her about Marie. 

Marie stays at the cafe for only the time it takes her to drink one cup of overly sugary coffee out of the Barcelona mug that Ingrid has designated as hers.  
It’s slightly concerning when Marie proceeds to act like this for two more weeks, but Ingrid assumes she’s overstepped. 

Julie’s the one who oversteps when Marie enters the shop and makes a beeline to where Ingrid is, behind the counter.

“Did you send Julie to ask me what the fuck is up with me?”

“What? No. I didn’t ask Julie to do that,” Ingrid snaps, appalled that Marie would think she’d sink that low.

“Do I fucking look stupid?”

“It’s kind of hard to tell from just looks.” Ingrid knows she’s pissed Marie off with that line, but she’s not exactly being the nicest to Ingrid. 

“Dammit, Ingrid, just tell your dogs to leave me alone, Jesus Christ.”

“Julie, what the fuck did you do?” Ingrid asks, completely ignoring Marie. “When your shift is done, I need to talk to you. About boundaries. And you not having a fucking life.”

Ingrid just about wants to go back upstairs and hide in her apartment for the rest of her life. She has a sliver of dignity, and ignores Marie until she leaves. 

She’s lucky that the cafe is almost empty when she curses Julie out, loudly, in her little office. Julie just gives her a smirk, and tells her that she’s speeding up whatever is going on between the two of them. Ingrid considers firing her on the spot, but Julie is usually a good kid and she’s good at her job. She’s just a little shit around her friends. Ingrid then realizes she’s good friends with a nineteen year old university student. And then she remembers she’s not too much older than Julie. 

<>

Marie stops going to Ingrid’s cafe every day, and when she does, she orders her coffee to go. When Ingrid makes it, she puts less sugar in it just to spite her. 

Julie gets a tattoo at Permanent Doodles. She tells everyone she knows how nice Marie is and how good she is at what she does. But she makes sure to tell Ingrid that there were no bad intentions, she just wanted a tattoo and someone she knows, a girl from uni she calls Angie, recommended Permanent Doodles to her. Ingrid has a hard time believing her, but Julie’s usually a good kid. She’s definitely a good kid when she races into the door, forgetting it’s a pull door and not a push door, and yelling, loudly, that she got fives on two of her exams. Cecilie picks her up and swings her around, almost hitting a customer reading the newspaper. Ingrid serves her and her other friends who passed their exams a free drink. It’s not the smartest move she could have made, but they deserve a break after weeks of studying. 

The place is wildly rowdy on a Wednesday night before their break. Ingrid knows that the students are going to be so hungover in the morning, and doesn’t stop them from drinking, though she does order most of them a ride home, and puts it on their tab. Julie passes out at the bar and Ingrid doesn’t have the heart to wake her up and send her home. She puts Julie on the couch with a blanket, and leaves her alone. 

Ingrid goes back downstairs to help Magda clean up, when there’s a knocking on the glass door. Marie’s standing there, smiling awkwardly again, and Magda takes that as her cue to leave, even though the place isn’t clean yet, letting Marie in.

“I’ve been such a fucking bitch to you, Ingrid,” Marie says without preamble. 

“Honestly, I’ve also been a bitch to you. I kept putting less and less sugar in your coffee.”

“I fucking knew it! I fucking knew there was something off with it whenever you served me.”

“I was being a bitch, I know. I’ll go back to putting the right amount of sugar in your godly unhealthy coffee. Seriously, Marie, that much sugar cannot be healthy.”  
“I know it’s not healthy, it tastes good!” Marie exclaims, indignantly. “Sorry. Can I buy you a drink?”

“Oh, sure. You can pay in helping me clean up because Magda ditched me.”

The two work in silence, and Marie flexes her biceps as she flips bar stools on the counter. Ingrid knows she’s showing off, but she doesn’t stop staring. Marie catches her and winks, before sitting on the only stool she hadn’t put up. 

They’re not talking much but it’s a comfortable silence. It’s only broken when Julie stumbles down the stairs for some water, disregarding the glass of water next to the couch. She’s still mostly drunk, and her filter disappears when she’s drunk. The delight in her voice when she sees Marie is hilarious, her eyes lighting up and a smile stretching across her face, letting out the highest pitched scream Ingrid had ever heard, before she covered her ears because it hurt her head. 

Ingrid gives her a glass before guiding her right back up the stairs. Ingrid lays her right back down on the couch and locks the door behind her. 

Marie’s still sitting there. 

“It’s adorable how much you care for Julie, even though she’s kind of an ass sometimes.”

“She’s an incredibly good kid when she isn’t harassing either of us. She got two fives on her exams. She spends so much time working toward her degree. She’s a good kid.”

“I couldn’t tell from the harassment.”

“I didn’t mean for her to get so fucking bitchy.”

Marie just smiles at her. It’s not the stupid tight lipped smile she had when she visited that first time. 

“You’re incredible, Ingrid.”

Ingrid gives her such an awkward, embarrassed smile, rivaling her own. 

“Look, I really like you, Ingrid. I really do. I know I’m kind of awkward.”

Ingrid waits for Marie to finish what she’s saying, but Marie just sits there, staring at her. 

“Oh, uh. I think you’re really cool. I like you, a lot. Maybe we could hang out?”

The confusion on Marie’s face is hilarious. 

“Sure, we could hang out, sure.”

“Did you mean to say sure twice? Butte shouldn’t go to a bar or a cafe. Maybe a park or like a movie,” Ingrid rambles on, glancing everywhere but Marie. 

Marie laughs softly. “We can decide later. I’ll give you my number, though,” she says, rattling off her number. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Of course. Also, why the Barcelona mug?”

“Yeah. The tattoos reminded me of Mapi Leon. She plays football for Barca Femini.”

“Oh, she’s hot.”

“I know. I think it’s the tattoos.”

“Is that the only reason you like me?”

“Well, that and that you intrigued me when you first started visiting. The tattoos, the outfits, the taste in music? You make a very interesting first impression.”

“In my defense, your taste in music is shit.”

“You’ll come around eventually, rap god.”

The go back and forth with casual banter for most of the night, until Marie decides she should actually go to sleep. Ingrid quietly hopes that Julie doesn’t remember anything.


End file.
